Black and Rose
by PandaFollowsPeach
Summary: A little pre-ASOUE Olaf romance.


Black and Rose  
  
By Val Morgan  
  
Rated PG-13  
  
Disclaimer- Yeah, Daniel Handler owns all. This bit of backstory is out of my mind, however.   
  
Looking back, It had been the acting class that started it all.  
  
She caught his eye immediately.   
  
Dark hair that fell in a cascade of curls around her shoulders and back, strange black eyes set in a face as pale as a winter sky. She looked to be no more than fifteen or sixteen, jailbait but it didn't look like anyone would care. Her clothes were that of any other street girl he had seen, coat too big, dress all wrong for the bitter November outside. Somehow she made that ill fitting bit of cotton as fine as any velvet or brocade. In the flickering florescent light of the makeshift classroom, she was absolutely otherworldly. She wasn't paying any attention, the girl was staring at her hands or picking at a scab on her arm, but not paying him any attention. She had probably not come for the acting at all, but for shelter from the weather outside.   
  
Halfway through the lecture the girl stood up, quietly slipping out the back door.   
  
"Now I can't stress it enough you little worms, enunciate..." Olaf trailed off as he watched her dissapear. The few students in their folding chairs began to talk amongst themselves, as Olaf stood in silence before the group. At last, he thought of something to say.   
  
"Why don't we take a ten minute break?"   
  
She was already halfway down the street when he caught up to her.  
  
She was a swift walker, clutching her bag to her chest in the peculiar way he had seen so many others do. An orphan, he guessed. He knew the look, the darting hunger in the eyes, the need for something that would never come to be. Insatiable creatures, orphans.   
  
"You're an actor." She said, stopping to dig in her bag and pull out a pack of cigarettes.   
  
"You're that girl who left class early."  
  
She chuckled as she lit one up. "So did you. I don't think acting's my thing. No offense."   
  
"I thought you were quite talented. What's your name?"  
  
"Like you would care."   
  
"If I can guess, do I get a prize?"  
  
She took a long drag of her cigarette, and turned to blow a smoke ring at him. "Trust me, you won't."  
  
"Is it Marie?"  
  
She shook her head.   
  
"Gabrielle?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
"Alexandra?" Olaf guessed, stuggling to keep up as she walked faster.   
  
"Not even close."  
  
"Can you give me a hint?"  
  
They stopped in front of a dismal looking brick building, painted a greenish gray and smelling distinctly of old mothballs. This was where the orphan lived.   
  
"This is my place," she said as if she had read his mind, "it was nice chatting. I hope your acting thing works out for you."   
  
Without another word the girl began to walk up the cracked steps, away from Olaf and away from what seemed like the only opportunity he would ever have to woo her.  
  
As a final, desperate gesture, he shouted out the first thing he could think of.   
  
"Among the many things that make the magic of her face, among the beauties black and rose that make her bodies charm and grace...what is most fair? Thou didst reply, to the abhorred O' soul of mine...no single beauty is the best, since she is all one flower divine."   
  
The girl frowned, and let go of the doorknob.   
  
"Did you write that?"  
  
"Of course I did. Just now."   
  
She cocked her head to one side and gave Olaf a strange smile. "It's very cold out, isn't it?"  
  
Olaf nodded, and scratched his head. How was he supposed to take that?  
  
She motioned to him to follow behind her.   
  
"It's just a flight up and to the left..."   
  
The sun would be rising soon.   
  
His fingers ran down the line of his new lover's back, stopping at the lace band of her underwear.   
  
"Was that all right for you?"   
  
Olaf heard her sigh.   
  
"It was fine. Very impressive."   
  
"All right. But it's rather disgraceful. My being in your bed and not knowing anything about you."   
  
"What do you want to know?" She asked in a small, suspicious voice.   
  
"Where you came from. Why you came here. Who your first lover was. Where did you get that scar right on your hipbone?"  
  
There was another small sigh from the darkness. "The other side of nowhere. Because I watched my childhood home burn to the ground, and it was either find a place to live or starve in the street. He was my brother's friend James, and it's not a scar. It's a birthmark."   
  
She shifted her weight and shook off his embrace, still not turning to look at Olaf.   
  
"I would've set fire to God himself if it meant getting out of there."  
  
There was a long silence as the two lay in bed, staring out at the pre-dawn darkness of the city beyond her cracked window.   
  
A world of possibility. A world of fear and rejection, more often than most people would admit. Olaf had never been much of an optimist, even now, at barely thirty he was already hardened to the world and it's inevitable pain. Mothers die, dogs get run over, sisters marry while fathers leave and houses burn.  
  
He felt her slip out from under his arm and he released her, watching as she stood and stretched in the dim light, glancing at her watch with a loud yawn.   
  
"Where are you going?" Olaf asked.   
  
"To work." She called back from the mirror, as she tousled her hair with her fingertips, softening the curls around her face with a comb.   
  
"Where?"  
  
"The bank. I'm just a cashier, but I'm going to be promoted."  
  
"You're sure of this? Maybe we can meet for lunch. You know, to celebrate in advance."  
  
She frowned as she stepped into a black dress that had been lying across the chair. "I don't think so. Zip me up."  
  
Olaf obliged. "Maybe dinner."  
  
"Maybe not. Look, don't put so much stock in this. It just means I'm easy, all right?"  
  
"If you say so."   
  
At this, she made a noise of annoyance, and grabbed her bag off the nightstand.   
  
"Wait." Olaf called out. She stopped in the doorway, and turned to look down at Olaf.   
  
"What is it?"  
  
"I still don't know your name."  
  
At this, she finally smiled. "All this just to learn my name. God, you're determined."  
  
"If you're not going to tell me-"  
  
"Don't go so worked up about it. I like determination. That's what makes a man. You won. My name's Esme`."  
  
"Esme`. That's beautiful."  
  
Esme` rolled her eyes at him. "Thanks."   
  
She grabbed Olaf's pants off the bedpost, and tossed them at him.   
  
"I'll be home at five. Be out of here by then." Without another word, she turned and slammed the door behind her, leaving Olaf alone with his thoughts. For a long moment, there was silence. Then, for the first time in a very long while, Olaf began to laugh.   
  
Love was a glorious thing. 


End file.
